The Dragon Trainer 'Ascension Day' Chapter One
by SweetLolly
Summary: The Dragon Trainer announces 'Ascension Day' to find his successor. Not only does the announcement throw the Royal households into a frenzy of excitement and trepidation, it also brings great joy and deep sorrow to two small village children. pls review.
1. Marvich

**Chapter One**

Marvich

Exhibiting the signs of a worried man, Marvich took a moment from his daily routine to watch the sunset from the Balcony shelf and contemplated the inevitable. He glanced at his withered hand resting on a cane for support; time and toil etched into his skin like the contours of Calliandra. His back was now curved like an archer's bow, his frail body unable to stand straight and tall as it once had in the more sprightly days of his youth. He stroked his beard lovingly, (as he often did when considering important decisions), the sweet smell of Leela berries emanating from its soft, singed bristles. He smiled inwardly as he recollected the moment his beard was singed for the umpteenth time, although he could not remember it being funny at the time. He forced himself to turn his attention to the matter in hand but his decision was now made and he was now ready to make the announcement. He inhaled the evening air, inwardly digesting the vision before him. Marvich thought that the mountains of Orf were so very majestic in the evening light as the sharp black edges of the mountain peeks pierced the sky. Particularly so as the evening sun melted, silhouetting their magnificence and even though some thought they were eerie and oppressive, they were not to Marvich, for this was his home. Considering the enormity of his responsibilities as Dragon Trainer, and the Royal pedestal that he stood on, Marvich was still humbled by the sheer scale of the mountainous terrain and by the Dragon who stood at his side.

Marvich patted his brightly coloured hat down on his head, and then tilting hishead skyward he smiled, an almost toothless smile at the Dragon towering over him. With a fleeting thought Feach complimented Marvich on his choice of hat that day as his green eyes dazzled upon his mentor.

'That's just fine'. He praised Marvich enthusiastically using his favourite phrase that he used so often as it seemed to cover nearly every eventuality. He did, of course, have the occasion to use the words: 'That's not fine', but Feach always preferred to be positive. With the aid of his cane, (less of a prop and more of a necessity these days), Marvich began the first steps of a troubled future as he entered the Halls to the Infirmary. The young Dragon faithfully hopped closely behind. From the joint of his knee on his rear left leg there was nothing, no claw or talons, just the end, a stump, a useless appendage. It was indeed a mystery as to why he should be born that way and it was to prove to cause no end of difficulties for the Dragonet as he grew and began his training.

The Infirmary was an enormous hollow in an extinct volcanic mountain. Highly polished black rock walls reflected the light entering the porthole windows, long since chiselled to the out side world. Situated in its centre was a very large stone shelf, where Dragons would perch to be examined…or operated on. At its side were a set of custom made step ladders and a sling was suspended from the ceiling on a framework of wooden runners to aid him in his duties as healer to the Dragons. Thousands of little shelves circumnavigated the Chamber, each housing colourful homemade potions, (some only accessible when using the sling), concocted from herbs and vegetation grown in Marvich's garden. Many of the potions were inherited from previous Dragon Trainers and there were many that Marvich himself had developed to heal particular ailments. Creams for Tanet rash, (the Dragons were particularly allergic to Tanets), or for nose burns, ointments for claw rot and moredole bites, (usually in the ankle area). Eye drops are often needed for ash burns, ear drops for fillytip tics, nasty little bugs that lay eggs in the ear and when the larvae hatch they eat the earwax until their wings are formed and fly away. The most recent experiment that Marvich was trying to develop was a potion to reverse the effects of a Hammerspike attack. These creatures have spines that are shot at predators, causing permanent paralysis. Marvich's garden, a courtyard of plants holders and bowls carved into the black rock, had taken many years to develop to ensure that it provided the best environment for his plants. The soil was collected from the fields of Calliandra (and kindly donated by its inhabitants), the water trickled down the jagged mountains slopes into pools and into Marvich's irrigation system. The vegetation grew plentiful in these ideal conditions and provided Marvich with hours of joy. He had even fashioned a sun bed to relax on when his duties permitted.

The Infirmary was a bright, colourful and cheerful place, the black shiny surface of the walls reflecting rays of sunlight causing rainbows colours to scatter in all directions. Marvich believed the ambience in this particular chamber aided a speedy recovery. Little did he know that the Dragons would rather it was not so bright and cheerful, preferring the dim shelter of their own shelves, but of course they respected Marvich too much to tell him so.

Leading from the Infirmary were smaller Chambers where Marvich lived and worked. It was in these that he could get a small amount of privacy from the Dragons, although their thoughts were never far away. He had made his stone cave very inviting and very comfortable, (even though he could never invite another human being to his chamber, this would, of course, be inviting the Dragons to feast on their bones). There was a picture painted on cloth which was drawn at each corner and hanging on the ceiling so you could see it best when lying down. It was Marvich's own work, created on a fierce day when it was impossible to tend to his garden and when his duties to the Dragons were at a lull. The picture depicted Moredoles and flowers on a summer's day, Bluemeade and Leela scattered randomly around burrows and a bright sun reflecting on mountain pools, and he particularly liked the little Dragonet that he had painted sleeping in the luscious, green grass. All in all Marvich was pleased with his first, (and probably his last), attempt at painting and although the Mites might have had something to say (if they could speak) about him wasting material they had worked so hard to clean and tan, he hung it proudly on the wall for all….well maybe just him to see. As his hands now shook with age he knew he was unlikely to do another.

A variety of plants were dotted around in small chiselled hollows in the walls, it was evident that Marvich loved each and every one of them. The pots were highly decorated with bright colours and patterns. In one corner there were half a dozen yellow plants and flowers of varying shades, one with deep mustard coloured leaves that looked like they could be poisoness and some with the brightest and lightest yellow flowers almost too small to see with the naked eye. Then in another corner were all the red ones and on one wall all the blue. There was one, however, that was in a deep alcove of its own some distance away from everything else in the cave, with the words 'DANGER DO NOT TOUCH,' painted in bold red letters below it. It was clearly a very poisoness plant but Marvich still loved it for its pure and simple beauty, a big white flower with red veins running through the stem and leaves. On closer examination you would have seen the tiny spines on the leaves that would be jettisoned in your direction should you get too close and soon you would be lying on the floor, your body convulsing and starting to swell larger and larger until you were given the antidote…altogether a very unpleasant experience. At the other end of the Chamber was a very large bed that, at first glance, looked more like a layered sponge cake than a bed. Marvich had layered blanket after blanket, each a different colour on top of the wooden structure below. He would climb under as any blankets as he needed according to the weather, but lately he always felt cold and tucked under as many as he could. It was a wonder he could climb aboard at all and it must have taken ages to tidy it up again. (His secret was the very helpful little Mites). All in all Marvich's cave was like an explosion of colour, unlike the rest of the Chambers on Orf, which had a sense of cold dampness, and a diffused glow from the light of the fire torches.

Marvich walked over to his desk and held up to the light a polished Dragon's claw which he had constructed from the silver metal of the mountain. This wasn't just any claw though; it was a Dragon's leg and claw, equipped with moving joints. His eyes rested upon the healing blisters on his hands, a sore reminder of the difficulty he had digging the metal out of the ground, swinging his pick time after time to free the silver strands, the constant rubbing of the wooden shaft wearing away his skin. Nevertheless, he thought it was well worth the pain. He had worked on the claw whenever he had a spare moment, and even neglected some of his duties in the hope of getting it finished in time for the start of Feach's lessons. Marvich knew that Feach was in desperate need of some self-confidence and thought that it would be prudent to begin with rectifying his balance and giving him a much needed second leg and claw. Wearing a smirk of remembrance, his eyes shining as his mood lifted, Marvich gazed, trance-like out of his porthole window into the darkness. He knew it wasn't really funny, but poor Feach had more falls, trips and slips than he ought to chuckle at. When Feach was very young the other Dragonets frequently laughed at him, made fun of his inadequacies, as he often ended up in the trees and bushes, hopping uncontrollably when landing, but he didn't seem to mind and mostly laughed with them. How many times had Marvich had him in the infirmary with scrapes and cuts, he tried to remember. Now that Feach was an adolescent he put so much effort into getting just the basics right that when he did fall, it didn't seem so amusing….to him that is…for it was a constant source of amusement to his peers, who were repeatedly asked to control themselves and to be kind to Feach. So Marvich had decided to do something about it and began his mission, 'Project Claw', as he fondly called it. It had certainly been a challenge, digging for the metal, the blisters, then moulding it, the burns, let alone trying to think up ways of attaching it to Feach's remaining stump. All the same a challenge that, as it turned out, he had enjoyed immensely, a welcome change to making potions, gardening and his duties to the Dragons. He was also aware that it was probably going to be the last mission he undertook as his fingers grew stiffer every day. Not totally confident that his claw making skills were up to scratch he manipulated the joints one final time and then smiled at his success. He was thrilled and very proud that it was working well and put the claw back onto the desk, stood back and with a cheeky grin mimicked Feach.

'That's just fine.'

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	2. The Little Rascals

**Chapter Two**

The Little Rascals

It was early in the morning and already it was very warm on Calliandra but before it was too uncomfortable to work the traders and the field workers were already at their duties. It was the time of year when the Leela plants were being harvest, their unmistakable bitter sweet nectar riding on the breeze into the village where the stallholders were preparing their merchandise for the days trading. Each with their own particular skills finely tuned to produce wares of the highest standard in order to trade successfully. It was a bit like a market full of swapsies and each particular item had its worth. For instance, one Lady may produce jewellery that could be traded for food, clothes or other smaller items, depending on the value place upon each item. The market place was buzzing with activity and as they took a few moments to speak pleasantries to their neighbouring stallholders the air cooled and the skies darkened. There was thunder but no clouds, there was lightening but no storm, and there was a shower but no rain…it was '_The Falling'_… a meteor shower that frequently rained on the world of Meru. The field workers stopped their harvesting and the stallholders stopped their trading as they waited with bated breath for their protectors to rise to the challenge. One by one the Dragons appeared in all their magnificence piercing the clouds as they soared straight into the meteor shower. There were three Dragons which revealed to the inhabitants of this volcanic world that it was a relatively minor _Falling_, it had been known for the _falling_ to require seven and sometimes even eight Dragons. As they elegantly danced their manoeuvres, weaving in and out of the burning rock they discharged torrents of fire which blasted the meteors into smithereens. By the time they had plummeted to the ground the meteors were nothing but harmless dust. It was soon all over and the people of Calliandra resumed their duties, chatting away as if nothing had happened.

The Calliandrans lived in the shadow of two very large volcanic, but dormant mountains, their stone built homes carved into the black rock of the mountain side. They lived a relatively simple life with wind powered fans keeping them cool during the hot days and fires that kept them warm during the very cold nights. The people on Calliandra were no different to those of any other Kingdom on Meru, (except for a peculiar race called the Storytellers), in that they were all different. Some were always cheerful, some just plain moody, some were pretty or handsome to look at and some were not.

It was the season of flowers on Meru, the days were hotter, the nights colder and the atmosphere filled with optimism as the harvesting continued. Soon the Leela would be gathered and the field workers would start harvesting the Bluemeade. These were pretty blue flowers that produced little berries during the warm days of this season and were used to make the very best Blue Wine. The Leela on the other hand were harvested to make perfumes and medicine. It was also common to see the young ladies pressing the petals of these beautiful flowers so that they could be hemmed onto their dresses.

The stall holders were beginning their day as any other, exchanging goods from clothes and shoes to furniture and even houses. At the far end of the market place a commotion was attracting attention. Two young children with torn clothes and faces muddied were being chastised by one of the stallholders. Lady Fiona, (all women were addressed as 'Lady' on Calliandra), was normally very generous when the twins helped themselves to her fruit, usually allowing them to run away with it unchallenged… but not today. Maybe it was because their faces were covered in mud hiding the dimples and pleasant smiles that made them so likeable. Or maybe something had upset Lady Fiona and so she was in a particularly bad mood that day. Whatever the reason she was having none of it and yelled for the Guard to stop them.

'Guard! Guard!' Lady Fiona shrilled in her high-pitched tones that would be audible to Tanets alone had it been any higher. She was rather a buxom lady to say the least and looked a bit like a rhinoceros with her extravagant hairstyle in place of a horn. Picking up her very full dress she began the chase knowing full well that she would be unable to keep it up for long. The incredible and very elaborate hairstyle on the top of her head thrashed from side to side as she ran.

'Guard! Stop those two, they are stealing my fruit!' It seemed like only moments after starting her chase that she halted, already out of breath and out of voice, (to the delight of all who heard her). She rested her hand on her chest and took deep breaths of air in an attempt to slow her breathing down, her hand rising and falling like a small boat on the waves of a stormy ocean.

In the hope of losing Lady Fiona, Millie and Barram, with their tangled, long brown hair trailing behind them, ran into the busiest part of the market. They weaved in and out of the stalls, knocking over fruit, vegetables and other precious items. Barram, not wanting to waste any food, stopped briefly to give a handful of berries to a small child who was digging in the dirt behind his parents stall. Believing they had found a safe place to hide they crouched behind a stall and watched Lady Fiona come to standstill. They couldn't help but laugh at the sight of poor Lady Fiona trying to catch her breath especially with her hair in such a tangle. They put their hands over their mouths to stifle their giggles as they sat and waited.

'What do you think Barram, can you see anyone coming?'

'No, she's not coming after us, what do you think, time to go?' They looked into each other's dark brown eyes and grinned, knowing that once again they had got away with their mischievous behavior. Believing they had been undetected they slowly emerged from their hiding place to make their escape.

'So, my young friends did you think you had got away?' A smile of enormous proportions lit up the Guard's face as he placed his hands on the top of the twins' heads. He spun them around and walked them back towards Lady Fiona. He was pretty pleased with himself to say the least, it was the first time he had caught any villains.

'I hope you both have an apology ready for Lady Fiona, well have you?' The twins were more than a little embarrassed and nodded, but said nothing. A very stern looking Lady Fiona, with hands on hips, was waiting impatiently at her stall. Her hair now in a complete shambles as it flopped untidily to one side of her head. It was difficult for Millie and Barram to keep their faces straight as they stood before her. To avoid her gaze they bowed their heads and looked at the floor, trying to think serious thoughts to prevent themselves from erupting into hysterical laughter.

'This is becoming quite a habit with you two.' Lady Fiona tried to put her hair back on top of her head but some of the hair sticks had fallen out and as she fiddled with it the thick, plaited…what can only be described as a loaf of bread hair style, suddenly collapsed completely and her cheeks glowed with humiliation. Millie and Barram could hardly contain themselves as they sneaked a peak at the flamboyant hairdo disintegrating before them, ringlets trickled over her eyes, hair sticks poking out of her ears and the rest just looked like it had melted around her face. How the Guard managed to ignore the whole hair catastrophe and not find it at all amusing was a complete mystery. He was still glowing with pride, his face still stern and he placed his hands on the back of the twin's necks, his fingers tightening as if to squeeze an apology from them.

'Sorry Lady Fiona' they apologized in unison, heads still bowed to the ground. Millie raised hers slightly as she stretched out her fruit filled hands and attempted a sweet smile. The smile was the easy part, preventing it from developing into an uncontrollable fit of giggles though, was no minor feat.

'We will not do it again; here are your Berry fruit'. Barram followed Millie's lead and gave the fruit to Lady Fiona putting his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound of his sniggering.

Lady Fiona, a resourceful woman, and aware of the obvious humour her hair was creating, grabbed a pencil from a stall. Yanking it all back with her hands she twisted her hair high onto her head and shoved in a very large ornate pencil, miraculously locking it all into place.

'There that's better.' She said hoping that it would put an end to the frivolity. 'No, no, you keep them, I'm sure they will do you good.' Lady Fiona referred to the fruit that Millie and Barram were still holding out in the palm of their outstretched hands. She could not remain angry for long, had she not dropped and smashed her favourite cooking pot this morning she might not have been so irritable in the first place and let them have the fruit, after all it was only a few berries that her husband had brought home from the fields. Not that that was any comfort to Millie and Barram for now they were in a heap of trouble. They knew to expect some sort of punishment to come their way, especially as the Guard seemed so….joyful in his duties.

'I will ask the Guard to take you home, let your family know what you've been up to.' Lady Fiona was now composed and her breathing was back to normal, she returned to her stall and quickly checked her hair to make sure it was still on top of her head.

'Come on you two.' The Guard could hardly contain his pleasure as he nodded to Lady Fiona and wheeled the twins around to march them homewards. Henry, (the Guard), was glad to have something to do. Since joining the Imperial Guard only a few months ago he had done nothing but training and patrols. It was all getting a little boring and he longed for someone to commit a crime so that he could make an arrest. The fact that they were only children made no difference whatsoever, it had certainly added some much needed spice to his otherwise mundane day.

Henry held onto the twins tightly and nodded to the flutist as they passed by the well. The flutist stopped briefly to nod back and chuckled at the sight of Henry taking his job so seriously. He then continued playing his music as he watched Henry and the twins climb the hill. Henry frowned, not quite getting the joke, (was Pock laughing at him?), he took long, frustrated steps, as the twins jogged merrily alongside him to keep up.

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	3. The Decision

**Chapter Three**

The Decision

As Marvich entered his sleeping Chamber he was startled to see an old man peering back at him from the looking glass on the wall. Disgruntled he started mumbling to himself, 'only me, only you.' He removed his hat to put it away with the many others he had stored on a shelf. The people of Calliandra had been very kind to him and had sent many gifts, all gratefully received, but he particularly liked his hats as they kept his bald head warm. They arrived in assorted colours and styles and he tried to wear a different one everyday but as much as he liked wearing his hats that covered his bald head, his pride and joy was his beard that compensated for it. Scrutinizing his reflection he raised his eyebrows and pulled down his chin in the hope of stretching out the wrinkles on his face, but when he relaxed again the old man was still gazing back at him. Unhappy with the image he frowned and huffed, this only served to make him look even older. He attempted to cheer himself up by taking another brightly coloured hat from the shelf, this time a yellow and red one, and patted it onto his head. Marvich squinted his almond eyes, scrunched up his petit little nose and frowned. Only then did it occur to him that he was beginning to look more and more like his Dragons! He straightened out his face and tried to eradicate the idea from his mind and concluded that he did have one redeeming feature and that was his smile. Marvich had been told many times that he had a joyful smile, which he liked very much and peering closely at himself in the mirror he realized that even when he was not smiling the corners of his mouth curled upwards. It was an endearing quality but what Marvich forgot to take into consideration was that it complemented his temperament. He was a mild mannered man with infinite patience and considering the demands of the Dragon Trainer, he managed to make the Dragons and people around him feel very comfortable. Similar to the sensation you get when you've been away and return home to familiar surroundings; that was how one felt around Marvich.

Admiring his new hat, Marvich, having coming to terms with his new found Dragon features, nodded at his reflection and muttered to himself as he so often did.

'Yes my friend it is time to pass on your knowledge to a new Dragon Trainer.' Marvich shook a wiry finger at his reflection. 'It is also about time you told the Dragons of your decision.' Marvich had been putting off making his decision for some time, no one likes to admit they are getting too old to carry out their duties. The frown reappeared on Marvich's face and he caressed his beard hoping it would provide him with some comfort. He shook his head and turned away from the mirror muttering to himself again. 'Yes, yes I know we must discuss the dreams too.' He put on his favourite coat and turned into the Halls making his way to the Centre Chamber, the clicking of his cane echoing with each pace.

Marvich entered the very large and very cold Centre Chamber, so called simply because it was in the centre of the mountain. It housed every Dragon on Orf and was by far the largest of all the Chambers. Marvich was glad of his warm coat as he wrapped it tightly around his aching body and made his way over to the stone Bowl. Many outer garments, like Marvich's coat, were made from the Dragon's scales.

When the scales were old and no longer required they were skilfully removed by little tiny creatures called Dino-Mites, who defecated an explosive substance onto the scales which was then lit by a Dragon's breath. The pop of the explosion was almost negligible to the Dragons, they didn't feel a thing. The Dino-Mite, however, was often blown over, or (if the Dino-Mite had laid a particularly large charge), was blown right off the Dragon! It was a hazard of the job, but they didn't seem to mind, they just climbed back on and finished the job. The scales would then be passed onto the Mite-Nots who looked exactly the same as all the other Mites, but their role in serving the Dragons was slightly different. (Marvich could never determine who chose what jobs the Mites undertook). Using their parrot beaks they bashed the scales against the rocks to soften them. The Mite-Nots had big platypus feet which were lined with tiny hooks, much like that of a cats tongue, and were used to scrape the scales clean. Then the scales were prepared for sewing and weaving into garments. Marvich did some of the stitching and colouring, (there were seamstresses on Calliandra to do the rest), although it wasn't unknown for the Mite-Nots to jump into the vat of colorant to help the process along, being very helpful little creatures. It was quite common to see a yellow or blue Mite-Not with its large flat feet scurrying down the Halls. Marvich had decided that the Mites must have enjoyed making fools of themselves, it was their way of having fun and he enjoyed the comical sight. Just imagine a hedgehog that stands upright with no head and on two feet that each look like a duck billed platypus's snout, staring at you from its stomach with owl like eyes that don't blink, and below them a parrot's beak that does not speak. Their purpose for living was to keep the Dragons clean and comfortable and one Mite that was particularly good at this was the Char-Mite. Its job was to remove stubborn stains by curling into a ball, exposing their spines, and shaking vigorously like a motor powered scrubbing brush. (Yes indeed, they were a sight to behold).

The Dragons were huffing and puffing in agitation as Marvich made himself comfortable in his seat carved into the stone floor of the Chamber. He wondered why he had never put one of his brightly coloured blankets onto the seat, or made a cushion to sit on. He soon concluded that he was procrastinating, diverting his mind from his inevitable disclosure.

There was a time when Marvich would have spoken to the Dragons telepathically, but in his old age he preferred to speak aloud. The Dragons too, were able to speak aloud although they preferred not to, only doing so out of respect for their teacher. Marvich's days of being bombarded by Dragon voices in his head had long past and much to his pleasure and relief, the Centre Chamber was now a lot quieter.

Marvich was eager to find out what the debate was all about. The Dragons were agitated and the Mites were tossed about as they tried, in vain, to carry out their chores. They were a minor irritation to the Dragons but it was rather more than that for the poor Mites who were bouncing from wall to wall.

The Bowl was tilted backwards at a perfect angle so that Marvich had full view of the Dragon shelves above him. Each Dragon had his own Shelf which looked out into the Centre Chamber, a magnificent but imposing sight. The older Dragons were perched on the bigger shelves higher up and the younger ones on those below, (lest they should fall). Marvich often felt quite intimidated by all the different coloured eyes staring menacingly down at him. Their permanent frowns and very large nostrils made them appear very fierce…and so they were. However, it was the accidental snorts of flame that Marvich could not get used to. He stroked his beard in regretful reminiscence of the perils of being the Dragon Trainer.

Every Dragon wore a different shaped marking, one that matched their eye colour, with the exception of Feach. For some inexplicable reason, (as if being born with only one leg wasn't bad enough), he had yellow splashes on the tips of his ears. Not only did they not match his green eyes but they were in such a weird place for markings. (Usually they were on wings, backs and tails). He was the source of amusement for all the other Dragonets which would have made any lesser Dragon bitter and bad tempered, but much to his credit, he had turned out to be quite the opposite. In fact he was the most caring, loving and understanding of all the Dragonets.

Marvich looked up at all his Dragons fondly, how he had enjoyed their company over the years. They had been his friends, his pupils, his teachers and his family. So with his beard in tact, a warm backside and everything as it should be, Marvich told the Dragons of his decision.

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	4. The Punishment

**Chapter Four**

The Punishment

When they had reached their home, Henry pulled at his jacket uniform, lifted his shoulders back and straightened his hat. He wiped the smile from his face and was about to knock on the door when the twins escaped his clutches and opened it for him. They disappeared into the house, but Henry did not follow, (he wouldn't be so impolite as to enter uninvited). He remained at the door until Lady Clara appeared with Millie and Barram standing either side of her.

'What have they been up to this time Henry? Lady Clara stood in the doorway in her pastel green dress with pressed Leela flowers sewn into the hem. Her fudge coloured hair was tied with grace and poise on the top of her head in a far more delicate style than Lady Fiona's. It was a new design that a lot of the ladies were wearing at the time. When she saw Henry standing at the door in his new uniform she surveyed him from head to toe. She remembered when he was the same age as the twins and caused just as much havoc in the village. He hadn't changed much, he still had a face full of pimples, a squished fat nose, and ears that flapped in the wind, but to his credit he did wear the uniform well and looked very smart too.

Henry took off his hat and bowed slightly to show his respect, but not before admiring Lady Clara's gentile features and rosy cheeks. He had always liked Lady Clara; she had always been very kind to him as a child, even when he didn't deserve it. Suddenly Henry became very uncomfortable, blushing as he realized his gaze upon her had lingered a little too long. He tried to regain some composure and avoid further embarrassment by remembering why he was standing at Lady Clara's door, but tripped over his words.

'Lllllady Fffffiona caught the two of them ssssstealing fruit, Lady Clara.' He felt his cheeks redden and got annoyed with himself, after all he was now an Imperial Guardsman, so he took a deep breath and continued.

'She has allowed them to keep the fruit and has left any reprimanding to you Lady Clara.' Henry tried to keep a stern look upon his face, pleased that this time he hadn't stuttered like a bumbling idiot.

'Thank you for bringing the twins home Henry; I will certainly talk to Lady Fiona before sunset and discuss a trade for the fruit. As for these two, maybe a day in the fields, what do you think?' Lady Clara couldn't help but feel sorry for Henry, he wasn't quite a man yet and had a lot to learn, but she knew that his family would be very proud of him.

'I think that's an excellent idea Lady Clara, I will escort the twins myself. Shall we say this time tomorrow?' Henry felt more comfortable now, Lady Clara had put him at his ease and he no longer wanted to shrink and hide into his shiny black boots. He placed his hat back onto his head, but being too large for him it slid down over his eyebrows.

'Good, I'll see you in the morning then.' Lady Clara tried her best to contain the chuckles that were bursting from her lips, so she quickly nodded her farewells and pushed the door to. As it closed she covered her mouth with her dainty little hand to stifle an uncontrollable fit of laughter, knowing full well that Henry would have clearly heard it from the other side of the door.

Henry nodded back but the door was shut before he raised his head. Just as he turned to make his way back down to the market place he glanced back at the sound of what he thought was laughter. He listened again but hearing nothing decided that he must have imagined it, so he took a deep breath and mumbled to himself.

'I think I handled that quite well.' He then trundled back down the hill towards the village with a swagger of self importance emanating from every step.

Lady Clara peered down at the twins who were gazing back at her not quite understanding why she was so amused. Her expression soon changed though, to one of dismay when she saw the state of them.

'Look at you two, how did you get so muddy? Millie, is that your blue dress under all that dirt?' Millie looked down at her dress, thinking that it was blue when she put it on this morning and even though it was now covered in mud, squashed fruit and berry juice she could definitely see a few patches of blue. Millie looked back at Lady Clara and shrugged.

'I think so.'

Lady Clara kneeled in front of Millie and pulled at the new tear in her dress, then turned to Barram to wipe some of the dirt from his face and shook her head.

'You two need a good scrub, why don't you both go to the mountain pool and have a dip?' Lady Clara had no need to repeat herself; Millie and Barram loved the mountain pool, it was their second favourite place on all of Calliandra.

'Why don't you take those clothes for a dip too!' Lady Clara shouted behind them as they charged up the hill as fast their little legs could carry them.

Lady Clara was about to shut the door when she saw Master Pantas walking up the hill towards her.

'Hello you, what is my love doing honouring me with his presence so soon after leaving me to the grind of my daily routine?' Lady Clara's curiosity was usurped by the urge to fling her arms around his rugged body and smother him in kisses. His shirtless torso and toiled muscles, shining with the perspiration of his labour was too much to bear. Unable to contain her urges she reached up on tiptoes and planted a wet sloppy one right on his nose.

'Thank you, I am glad to see you too.' Pantas always enjoyed surprising Lady Clara but she was not normally standing at the door pre-empting his arrival.

'We've cleared most of the fields and we agreed to have a small break until the others have finished the last one, then we can start harvesting the Bluemeade berries… were you expecting me?' Pantas had a strong, deep voice with an element of boyish cheekiness in it that prevented it from being intimidating. Scooping Lady Clara up into his arms with ease he carried her into the house. He was about to return her peck on the nose with a more passionate kiss when she interrupted him.

'Before you get carried away my love.' Lady Clara thought that it would be better to tell her news, before the twins returned from the pool. 'I had a visit from the Guard just before you came home.' An anxious look crossed Pantas' face but Clara continued. She tried to avoid looking into his eyes, knowing that the news would not please him. 'Henry brought the twins home; they have been stealing food in the market place again.' Clara looked up at Pantas for a brief moment only to see anger in his eyes; she quickly tore her eyes away again and continued. 'Lady Fiona was kind enough to let them have the fruit they stole. Pantas you should have seen....' Lady Clara was about to tell him about Henry in an attempt to lighten the mood but was unable to finish.

'So what does our friendly Imperial Guard want to do about it?' Pantas retorted sarcastically, his voice was now elevated and the boyish element was gone. Lady Clara didn't like to see Pantas upset and tried to placate him.

'It was only Henry, Pantas; I had to bite my tongue, he looked so funny in his new hat. It's far too big for him and it slipped right down over his eyebrows.' Lady Clara didn't want to give Pantas a chance to speak again; at least until she could see he had calmed a bit, so with hardly a breath she carried on. 'He was nice enough though and we agreed that they should work in the fields, he is going to escort them tomorrow.'

'Don't trust him Clara, he's a Guard now and his loyalties are to that tyrant!' Pantas' voice was getting much louder and ricocheted around their small home. Clara was worried that the neighbours would hear and closed one of the windows. Pantas shook his finger through the other window at the King's Palace, towering above them on the mountainside. As he walked over to the water barrel, Lady Clara quickly shut the window and watched him scoop up the cold fresh water into his cupped hands. (She couldn't help her heart beating an extra beat at the sight if his rippling muscles as he leaned over the barrel.) Pantas splashed the water over his head and rubbed his face vigorously as if to wash away his anger. He then brushed back the black curls that had fallen into his eyes with his fingers. Oh yes there was no doubt, he was the most handsome man on Calliandra, Lady Clara thought to herself.

Pantas sighed and walked over to Clara, taking her hands in his with such gentleness that Clara knew his mood had softened.

'The burden of this is getting too much as they get older; especially now they are getting into trouble… the risk is just too great. I don't know, maybe it was wrong for us to take them on.' Clara pulled her hands away quickly, hurt at the very suggestion that it all might have been a mistake.

'You don't mean that Pantas, you love them as you would your own. My sister had no choice and we were not blessed with any of our own. Are you suggesting that we should have left them to face almost certain death? King Gorric would have shown no mercy and my sister Selena would have stood out like a Dragon in the market place had she tried to flee to the Isle of Sira carrying two babies!' Lady Clara felt the tears rising but shook her head and took deep breaths to suppress them.

'I know, I know, you're right, I'm sorry, Clara, please, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you.' Pantas lifted Clara's chin with his finger and smiled. 'Forgive me?' The cheekiness had returned to his voice and Clara wrapped her arms lovingly around his middle.

'You're forgiven.' They looked up at the Palace together. 'How can a man have so much hate in him to want his own children dead?' Lady Clara tightened her grip on Pantas; just the thought of the King left her feeling cold.

'He wants to make way for that nasty piece of work he calls a son, he aspires to be Dragon Trainer you know?' For a few moments they just stood, silently embracing each other, both lost in their own thoughts as they gazed up at the mountain. Then Lady Clara broke the moment and blurted out.

'Hey you don't think Millie and Barram have the _Gift_ do you?' Pantas was horrified at the thought.

'I hope not!'

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	5. Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

**Chapter Five**

Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

Prince Talus was a well fed and rounded boy, more plump than fat, the sort of plumpness that some boys need to have just before they grow Tanet's foot in one year, just as if the body was ensuring enough to stretch over the new elongated bones. Prince Talus was very fortunate in that he could enjoy all the trimmings of being the King's son and eat what he pleased, when he pleased, his favourite being Moredole anything… Moredole Pie, Moredole stew, cold Moredole between two Seefoc leaves and especially Moredole off the spit. He was a little older than the twins at fifteen and had the same deep, rich brown shoulder length hair but the Prince had the eyes of his mother, crystal blue like the cave pools up in the hills of Calliandra. Unfortunately for the Prince they were a constant reminder to the King of the wife he had lost soon after Talus was born… rarely did the King look at his son when he spoke to him. Prince Talus received little or no attention and was under no illusions as to why his father presumably loathed him so much. He had become accustomed to going days on end without so much as a word spoken between them, and most of the time Talus was quite happy to leave it that way, especially when his father had been drinking his vintage Blue wine, then he would keep his distance willingly. When his father appeared amenable he attempted conversation in the hope that he would at least take some interest in what he'd been up to… but would always depart his father's company feeling disappointed, (and if he cared to admit it)… hurt.

Despite the fact that the Prince could have whatever he wanted, he was always hard pressed to find something to do, something that would interest him. As there were no other children in the palace to talk to or go on adventures with and Meade the butler was no fun at all, he would create games of his own. The latest of his crazes was playing with his so called _friends_, if you could call them that. (I'm sure if you asked them that certainly wouldn't be what they would say). His _friends_ were the bugs, tacs, chims, and many other small creatures that had the misfortune to come his way. Prince Talus would sit on the wooden floor of his bed chamber quite happily discussing the events of his day, whilst shaking them up in the glass container where they were being held captive. Sometimes he placed two fierce enemies in the same jar and watched them fight it out to the death, shouting and waving his arms about when he had a winner. If he had not seen his father that day and had not had the humiliation of being ignored and therefore in a particularly good mood, he would let his _friends_ live. He would do this by stopping the battle of the creatures before it was too late, (before one was killed or eaten), thus saving their lives for another day. If the day had not gone very well, (which was more often than not), and he was not in the mood to save anyone, he prolonged the battle, watching the struggle and eventual death of the weakest. Sometimes, on his worst days, he handicapped the stronger of the two opposing creatures by tearing away a leg or wing from the body. Then when the poor creature looked liked it was about to be eaten, he rescued it just so that he could stick a pin through it and attach to the wall above his bed like a trophy, (as if he had slain the bug himself). Prince Talus was very fond of his collection, often admiring the variety of gladiators on the wall. Unlike the maids who shuddered at the thought of entering his chamber to clean every morning. To his credit, however, the Prince was very knowledgeable about his _friends_. He could tell you the species, natural habitat and eating habits of every creature pinned to his wall.

Over the years Talus had developed many interesting ways to amuse himself with his _friends, _racing them over obstacle courses, counted how long they lived in a sealed container, he even released a dozen lunc-wasps into his room to see if he could catch them all without being stung…but as childhood faded and adolescence took hold, the fun began to wear thin. His days rolled from one to the next with little or nothing happening and he became more and more irritable with boredom, often having temper tantrums and throwing things across the room. Talus often sat on his windowsill gazing out over the tiered gardens lavished with trees and flowers and the river below winding its way along the borders of the palace, hoping to get a glimpse of a Dragon as it flew past. He would try to imagine where they were going, what they were up to, sometimes it was obvious when there was a _falling_, but he liked to imagine that he had sent them to their destinations, or were returning to report back to him. How he would love to be the next Dragon Trainer, all that power… and they would do whatever _he_ wanted. He didn't particularly want to be King, not if he could be the next Dragon Trainer, he would much rather have the Dragons under his control. What a perfect life that would be, no more being scared of his father, no more listening to his ranting and ravings… no more father! (He wished).

Prince Talus walked over to the window of his bed chamber, followed by his Tanet, an ugly, grey pterodactyl like bird that he kept as a pet. It jumped up onto the windowsill, its pouch containing an abundance of tiny sharp teeth evident as its jaw dropped to take in the morning air.

'What do you think Squish, a walk down to the river today?' Prince Talus patted the Tanet on the head with such force that Squish's head bounced up and down as if it were nodding back. 'That's what we'll do then.' Even though the Prince mocked him, he liked his Tanet very much; it was his best _friend_ after all. Being the sad pathetic creature it was he could boss it around and treat it appallingly just as he did his other _friends_, it just happened to be a lot quicker on its feet (and wings)…. and so remained alive! Talus named it Squish because of the squishing, squelching sound it made when it walked, as if it was walking though waterlogged grassland. Its claws were almost webbed and Talus had decided that there may have been a time when Tanets were sea birds. The Tanet stretched out its wings preparing for flight out of the window when the Prince yelled at him.

'No way Squish if I've got to walk, so have you!' Squish had nearly got away; he would have enjoyed escaping from the Prince's clutches, for a short while at least. He jumped off the windowsill back into the chamber, folded his wings and lowered his head in expectation of a wallop from the Prince's hand as he passed by. Not receiving one he lifted his head triumphantly and even gave his walk a bounce…he got as far as the black stone staircase when the Prince gave him a swift kick up the backside. The Prince chuckled as he watched Squish frantically trying to regain his footing as he tumbled head long down the stairs. His body bounced from wall to step and from step to wall as he fell. When he regained his composure at the foot of the staircase Squish shot a stare that so obviously wished the Prince dead. Prince Talus just laughed at him and continued on down the stone staircase, not having a clue as to the amazing day he was about to have, a day that would change his life forever.

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	6. Anyone Need Their Beard Trimming?

**Chapter Six**

Anyone Need Their Beard Trimming?

In the Centre Chamber the debate between the Dragons and the old man was getting rather heated. In the midst of flying tempers the Dragons forgot to speak aloud and conducted their conversation telepathically, only their body movements suggested that there was anything was wrong as they violently shook their heads, waved their tails and slammed them against the rocks. Marvich was having trouble keeping up, pacing up and down and waving his cane about in frustration he requested that they refrained from speaking all at once, his head jerking from one Dragon to another as he tried to acknowledge each in turn, but his pleas went unnoticed. It all got too much for Marvich when it seemed that every Dragon was talking at once. He resigned himself from the conversation and Marvich sat back down in the Bowl, much like the Dragonets who had hidden further back on their shelves afraid of their elders. Marvich let the Dragons continue on, for some time, without him. He considered what his life would have been like had he not become the Dragon Trainer, after all he wasn't exactly the favourite for the position. He was more surprised than most when the Dragons had picked him… he was a most unlikely choice. (Marvich ducked as a small rock with a Mite on it, came hurtling down from above, it missed him and the Mite, seemingly unhurt, scurried off into the darkness). Not only was he already an adult, which was rare in itself as history had shown that most new Dragon Trainers were in their teens, but he was also chosen over Prince Gorric, his nephew and the King's son, a firm favourite for the position.

It was customary for a Royal family to have quite a few Princes and Princesses so that there was always an heir to the throne and at least one _Gifted_ child who may be put forward as a Contender for Dragon Trainer. Unfortunately for the Royals of Calliandra in the Kingdom of Gorric, the family had suffered more than most. When King Collasol died, (Marvich's older brother), he left only one son, Gorric, and it was assumed as he appeared to have the _Gift,_ that he would become the next Dragon Trainer leaving King Collasol's brother, Abbilon, (Marvich's twin), to inherit the throne. However, this assumption was turned on its head completely when the Dragons rejected Prince Gorric on Ascension Day. It soon became apparent that he was a _Pretender,_ his _Gift_ week and unsubstantiated. The Dragons turned to Marvich as he called for them to stop their attack on the Prince and as they obeyed they called upon Marvich to be their new Dragon Trainer in his place. Abbilon, who was absolutely thrilled with the outcome, chose to remain on the Isle of Hectar and fulfil his life long dream as farmer to the Dragons. Prince Gorric fulfilled his duties as the heir to the throne and became King upon his father's death with his wife Princess Miya at his side. As childhood sweethearts they had a Joining of Souls at a young age, long before Gorric had received his horrific scars on Ascension Day.

Sadly Queen Miya, the only woman who seemed to able calm Gorric's moods, died after a dreadful fall from her horse shortly after Prince Talus was born. It wasn't long before King Gorric fell into a deep depression, becoming bitter and irritated with his lot and the whole of Meru. His scars tormented him and were a constant reminder of Ascension Day, when his face became disfigured at the claws of the Dragon Fallon, (Feach's older sister). Now confining himself to the Palace he took to wearing a hooded cloak in an attempt to hide his disfigurement and shame. He tried to find solace by drinking excessive amounts of Blue wine, taking his bitterness and anger out on every one around him and causing misery and pain wherever he could, but mostly towards his own son. The only comfort he allowed himself was in the friendships he formed with his some of the maids, although their lips were sealed for fear of being thrown into the dungeon.

Catching one of the issues being debated Marvich nodded and agreed with the largest and the most cantankerous of all the Dragons... Tolar.

'I've been having the same dreams too, Tolar, but I still think Ascension Day should go ahead. I have read the scrolls and it is written that this _Falling_ happens no more than every hundred years. I think we should use it to bring a spectacular end to the day. It will also provide proof that the Dragons have chosen well.'

'I'm not sure about this Marvich, is this really a wise move?' Tolar began, his usual sombre tones resonating around the Chamber as he spoke aloud. 'We cannot be sure of the exact time it will happen, nor do we know how heavy it will be. Have we not all had the nightmares, does not the veil of foreboding shroud us all, are you sure we should proceed with this madness?' His voice escalated somewhat towards the end and some of the smaller Dragonets cowered into their Halls. Tolar was the alpha male of the Dragons, an extremely strong and powerful Dragon with bright, piercing red eyes and a corresponding zigzag at the end of his tail. He had felt uneasy for some time, for him the dreams didn't just fill him with foreboding… they predicted _death _and more…Tolar decided not to tell Marvich about the young human girl in his dreams at this time.

The female Dragon Larna, mother of many Dragonets, including Feach, had a glint of kindness, a '_you can come and talk to me about anything, at any_ _time_' look in her green eyes. (On the proviso you were another Dragon, of course...Were you not, she may want to chase you for a while, tickle you with her claws and then eat you!). Larna was the only Dragon that had the ability to tame the moods of Tolar who now appeared to be quite agitated. Larna spoke out.

'Is it written in the scrolls how severe this _'Falling'_ has been in the past, is it much bigger than the one's we are used to… have there been any landings, Marvich?' Larna hoped that the answer to this last question might ease Tolar's mood.

'I have gone back many thousands of years, only once have there been any landings, having said that, no one has ever been harmed.' Marvich was reminded that he too had dreamt of death and knew that this information wasn't going to ease Tolar's fears in the least. As yet it appeared that the other Dragons were unaware of the severity of the situation. 'I also see a great kindness, justice and a new beginning.' Marvich attempted to win Tolar over with a positive slant on the situation, but it didn't exactly work.

'What about the sacrifice!' Tolar roared at him as he thundered to his feet, convinced that Marvich had missed the point. 'You may have your Ascension Day for the dreams are what '_will_' happen and not what '_might_'. You teach our Dragonets well Marvich, we will need each and every one of them to carry out their duties when the day comes.' Tolar would have shaken a finger at Marvich had he been human, instead he bellowed fire at him. The flame reached just far enough to singe Marvich's beard. Tolar knew this would upset Marvich and huffed in satisfaction as he turned to enter the Hall from his shelf to the outside world. Tolar agreed with Marvich though, the timing for Ascension Day was perfect and despite his fears it must go ahead, for like he had said to Marvich, the dreams were of events that _will_ happen, whether he liked it or not. The sound of Tolar's heavy steps faded as he disappeared into his Hall.

Marvich jumped up from his Bowl, frantically beating his beard with his hat as he tried to put out the embers, the smell of burning Leela berries suffocating him as he sucked the smoke into his nostrils. He coughed.

'It'll take an age for it to grow again!' Marvich shouted, he coughed again and waved his hat at Tolar's empty shelf. Replacing the hat back onto his head, a worried Marvich walked back towards the infirmary. He wondered if all this agitation was just about Ascension Day or was there something far more sinister about to happen, and yes, there was definitely something that Tolar was not telling him.

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